Your left lobe is my erogenous zone. The golden earring teases the tongue so sweetly. You opened your eyes, stretched with drowsy grace, Then turning, pressed your whole body against mine for a moment. I lose all restraint, my hands poised to devour And they drift from your hair, tracing down to your waist. Your silk gown is gossamer, transparent, lilac. So yielding now, surrendered to my every desire. There are no barriers left, You are free, naked, ready to conquer and be conquered. The marks of sun on your skin—flaws no longer, I'm desperate, like a sailor, to cover them with myself at once......
# You, without a Flaw You, without a flaw— I watch you move through rooms, a certainty in every gesture, the way your hand finds the exact angle of light, how you speak as though the words were always waiting in the shape of your mouth. Nothing hesitates in you. Not the smile that arrives precisely when needed, not the stride that claims whatever ground you cross. You are the person everyone believes in, the answer to questions still being asked. And I, the counterweight— I stumble over my own good intentions, wear my uncertainties like borrowed clothes, speak in half-sentences, in glances that never quite arrive where they're meant to. Yet this is what I know: your flawlessness is also a kind of loneliness. That perfection keeps its distance, that certainty admits no shadow, no reaching out, no desperate need to be held by someone equally broken. I am the mess you'll never need, the complication you've outgrown. But in my jagged edges lives a hunger your smooth surfaces will never know— the hunger to be found by someone, at last, in the dark.
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